Fried Pickles and Beer
by SpellboundWinter
Summary: It's a regular night at Raisins for Stan and Kyle. Feasting on greasy pickles and drinking flat beer, it's basically tradition... even the part where Kyle admires Stan from afar. Will tonight be the night Kyle can break tradition and tell Stan how he truly feels? Style.


**A request fic for Mehlz! Hope you like it! :D**

**Style.**

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They say, a thousand mile journey all starts with a single step.

They were words to live by for one young man, Kyle Broflovski.

He would like to think that at the end of those thousand miles, he would end up somewhere different.

Of course he would be somewhere different but what does it mean exactly? Different means change but change isn't exactly an indication of good or bad. He kept asking himself where he would end up. On land? Drowning in the sea? In the middle of nowhere or in the middle of danger?

The unknown was something he couldn't know and not knowing the unknown frightened him… Try saying that three times fast.

Kyle wasn't clairvoyant and there was no way of knowing until it happened. And who knows what could happen? The future was too far away to not be cautious.

Kyle reclines back into a nearby wall, melting against it as if trying to escape the noise of the restaurant- _erm_, it wasn't a restaurant per se, seeing as all the waitresses wore butt floss and crop tops. Hm, sports bar was a more appropriate term for the shabby spot… not like the redhead cared or anything. He wanted to be anywhere else but here.

But it was tradition.

The Jew drums the table with his fingertips, eyes flickering from the waitresses' large backside to the noirette, not amused in the slightest. As he taps a beat into the table, he notices that his fingers are sticking to the faux wood. Sticky, like bubble gum. He quickly removes his arms from the filthy table top and places them into his lap, sipping on the stale tasting water.

Who knows how much bacteria was encrusted in to the grain of the table? The women around here can't even clean a table correctly.

"Dude, did you see that?!" Stan explodes with excitement.

"Yeah, Stan."

Although, his super best friend couldn't have been bothered by the large bottoms and the filthy eatery. Stan's looking up at the TVs, enjoying the rerun of last night's football game. Kyle's eyes briefly glance over the screens. The color contrast was adjusted a bit high as the TV's assaulted his eyes. If people had a certain sensitivity to color, it would be quite dangerous in the sports bar. He blinks a few times and brings his attention back to the stale tasting water, sipping.

He was definitely going to complain to the waitress about all this.

"Ohhhhh, shit! Kyle did you see that pass? Fuck dude!" Stan laughs, "That was like, the best part about last night's game. That arm is what's going to take us to the super bowl!"

"Yeah." 'Kyle secretly admirers the man from across the table.

Stan's hunched, sitting on a stool and in one hand is a fried pickle and the other a brown bottle of beer… those thin lips are opened in a small 'o' shape as his blue eyes light up. The redhead could smell his breath, giving off a twinge of oats and barley.

To everyone else, Kyle and Stan similar… but in reality, they were two completely different people.

Kyle was often labeled as this weak person, when in fact it was Stan who was weak. Or Kyle as the lowly office worker when the redhead was studying to be a respectable Lawyer and Stan was the pencil pusher, (and animal activist on the weekends).

The biggest difference between Stan and Kyle was that Stan was always running and Kyle was frozen in place. The noirette was always evolving and changing. Making risks, living life to the fullest. When he saw opportunity to improve, whether it wasn't exactly guaranteed, he took it. Stan was growing into this adult who could manage for himself with all these life experiences… things that Kyle never did because of how fearful he was of mistakes.

It was strange to say but… Stan was a lot more mature than Kyle.

He wasn't afraid of the unknown… no, he was fairly sure that he embraced it.

Stan finishes his beer and almost on female instinct, Tammy comes running from out of fucking thin air with a tray. The women at Raisins were like ravenous little sharks, circling their prey for extra tips.

Yes, Tammy Warner.

Yes, Kenny's ex-girlfriend.

Tammy Warner. The chick that blew Kenny behind TGI Fridays, oh, and there was that other guy too and probably a ton more now… Figures that she would be working here. But she reassured us cheerfully that, 'oh silly, I only work here for the white go-go boots, totes adorable'.

"Here we go! 'Nuther Bud for my bud here." Setting another beer beside Stan, she does a little fake giggle as she flicks her highlighted hair from her face. Another thing Kyle was going to complain about. Hair nets belong on the waitresses. It's unsanitary. "How are we doing tonight? After work fun… or something else? I noticed y'all didn't bring my Ken-doll round. You know how much I miss 'em."

Stan's attention turns to the woman, surprisingly his eyes don't dip down her top. "He was busy at the garage today."

"Tell that little butthole that I said hi, would ya?" Tammy smirks widely (hiding her jagged teeth), taking her tray of refreshments off of her hip and into the palm of her hand, disappearing into the ocean of men. The sharks… They were gonna need a bigger… uhm, table?

As much as Kyle despised the place, it was tradition that Stan, Kenny and him would go to the sports bar for a few drinks on Monday nights. Cartman wasn't allowed or even knew about it for very obvious reasons.

The sports bar obviously didn't have a lot going for it, in Kyle's eyes anyways. At least Raisins had fried pickles or he wouldn't even go. Small tits and big asses didn't interest him much. Actually, in Tammy's case, she was the curviest one there, seeing as she actually had meat on her, but still it didn't intrigue the redhead. I mean, if you were gay, you wouldn't think women were sexually attractive either.

Yes, Kyle Broflovski was gay. But, openly gay. He didn't have time for all that 'stuck in the closet' bullshit. He could appreciate the female body and all its beauty but it wasn't what he was after.

Stan places another fried pickle on his tongue, rolling it to the back of his mouth, chewing lazily. The redhead frowns, his throat dry and unable to speak. Feeling a bit starved for attention, he bumps fingers with noirette, grabbing at another greasy pickle.

"Sorry dude." Kyle stays quickly, not suspicious at all… like he meant to do it.

Kyle was smooth. Smooth as they came.

This is sarcasm of course.

"S'okay." The handsome black haired beauty gave the redhead a small smile of reassurance.

Kyle wouldn't admit it but Stan being close gave him a sort of comfort. Stan radiated a good feeling, like lollipops… teddy bears… _fucking rainbows_. Kyle couldn't even explain it. Couldn't place the emotion into words. It was just there. It was good. It only made him yearn for him to get closer.

If only he was a bit braver, he would make his move before some dumb Raisins girl would. But alas, the unknown…

The future was too far away not to be cautious.

Stan tips the beer back, emptying its contents. He flicks away the light amber liquid off his lips with his finger, looking to Kyle. The redhead peers all around, seeing how the noirette suddenly locked eyes with him. Kyle gets away from his stare by taking his straw and proceeding to drown his lemon in his water.

"How was school?" Stan chuckles, mostly because Kyle hated the question. He asked it nearly every freaking day. The question got worn out faster than a whore's mattress.

Kyle wraps his lips around the straw, mumbling, "Fine… I guess. I've learned that going to college to be a lawyer makes you want to gouge your eyes with a melon baller. How's your office job?"

"Shitty." Stan plops another helpless sliced pickle in his mouth, chewing quietly, "The office was annoying. The guy in the next cubicle to me has the worst BO. Me and Clyde got together and gifted him a fucking stick of deodorant last year. Apparently he has no idea how to use it."

Kyle's lips rises in disgust, almost happy he doesn't work in that setting. Although, working to become a lawyer wasn't any better. The classes were filled with people in their pajamas. Kyle, shamefully, included.

"So, anyways. How's that guy you got a crush at your school? Still too scared to tell him?" Stan's eyebrow goes up.

Kyle has to not inhale his water as he coughs into his shoulder nervously. Fuck. Kenny had to blab his big mouth the last time they came to Raisins. Kyle did like Stan a lot, if it wasn't obvious already. But, there was no way in hell Kyle would tell him, ever. It just couldn't or wouldn't work.

"Well," he starts fretfully, "Kind of. I'm afraid if I tell him. He'll reject me for sure."

"Dude, you gotta break a few omelets to make an egg."

"…I think you got that backwards."

"No I didn't, brainiac." Stan takes a pickle from the Jew, plopping it in his mouth. "You have to take a leap of faith. You have to at least do something courageous. Stop being so safe. You'll end up like Tweek. Jesus Christ... I don't want to deal with that shit like Craig does."

Kyle deflates, looking up to the man. "What if he hates me?"

"Then it's his loss, not yours. There's plenty more fish in the sea. If he rejects you, me and Kenny'll take you out to that gay bar and we can party it up. Take a chance already!" Stan explains with a snort, "Also, if he gives you shit, I'll beat him up for you ."

He goes over the situation in his head again. If he confesses to Stan, he could very easily reject him… but if he says yes, who knows what would happen in their relationship… Their friendship could be completely destroyed either way. The two basically grew up together, being super best friends, was he willing to risk it?

The unknown was something he couldn't know and not knowing the unknown frightened him.

"Well? What are ya gonna do-"

Here goes nothing!

Kyle clamps his eyes shut and puckers up. He nervously bursts forward in a quick movement, knocking over his water in the process. He halts, realizing he would fall off his stool if he leaned any more forward. His eyes flutter open to Stan's shocked expression and the attention of nearly everyone at Raisins.

"W-we're you trying to kiss me?" The noirette sputters.

Kyle looks all around in embarrassment as if Stan were speaking to someone else. This is what happens when Kyle actually made decisions to do things. Everything was FUBR for sure. Even worse, the redhead spots Kenny near the corner, leaning to Tammy and half assed whispering, "Yo, I'll just take a burger to go."

Not even Kenny made an attempt to help the situation.

"Hey, dude," Stan starts again, "Were you trying to kiss me?"

The redhead sits back, looking away, guilty. "Yeah…"

Different obviously means change. But change isn't exactly an indication of good or bad. Kyle changed their friendship… not for the better either. He just tried kissing his best friend in the middle of Raisins. And everyone saw. Feeling like an idiot, he grabs at his ushanka, pulling it down to hide his embarrassment.

He would give anything to try to take it back but… who jokes around about kissing their best friend? There's no coming back from that.

That was, until, Stan started to chuckle. Kyle glances at him and blinks confusingly. Was he laughing at him or with him? But, Kyle wasn't laughing…

"You like me, don't you. There is no guy in your college." Stan stands, rooting through his wallet and places a five on the table, taking the receipt with him.

Oh God! He was disgusted! He was leaving Kyle to sit there in his shame. He-

Stan passes by the Jew and nudges him rather roughly. "Cute. Well, let's discuss this somewhere quieter, 'kay Mr. Suave?"

They say, a thousand mile journey all starts with a single step. And Kyle would like to think that at the end of those thousand miles, he would end up somewhere different. The Jew gets to his feet, hurrying after the man with a quick beating heart.

The future was too far away to not be a little cautious but not _too_ cautious.


End file.
